Deep Water Dreamer and Little Pieces of Heaven
Sometimes there's a problem with being in heaven...for instance, like this morning.
It is a little piece of heaven when you are in a perfectly hot bath, quiet jazz in the background, a steaming cup of hot coffee in just the right cup, with a perfectly lovely book and for this one span of time, your puppy is contentedly ensconced in making mincemeat of his fabric octopus, and then it happens. The wheels in your sleepy Sunday brain get greased and the thoughts start turning into creative collages that demand expression. And right then, the unthinkable happens, which can be described in relation to this phenomenon. You are watching a really great movie and you have had two diet Pepsis with lime at room temperature with no ice and you get the urge. And you try to wait because the movie is so good. And you have to go. And you don't want to stop the movie. But you have to. And finally you get to the point where you have to take care of business because there is no other choice.... I'm dripping as I write this. You get the picture. The bath will have to wait...It's my book anyway, this blog, and I sense that this will be chapter 7. Excuse me a moment while I get my dog out from under my feet. He is playing soccer with himself and apparently, the area under my computer desk is one of the goals. The other one is the front door rug area where, when he "scores", instead of leaping in the air, he grabs one end of the rug, shakes it, growls triumphantly and throws it in the air, until the ref (me) growls at him for grabbing the rug and shows him out to get back in the game. Oh geez, looks like it's half-time, because he has the rug over on his "rug" and is eating it like a snack...I'll be right back. Ok, where were we? Oh, yes, interrupted heaven...
This morning, I am reading Because of Winn-Dixie. (I wish I knew how to use font applications on this blog, because it annoys me when I can't underline things like titles or apply proper accents when I choose to write en francais-sigh). THis book should be required reading for everyone I know, teach, and will teach. It is a superb story about learning about yourself, making friends, trust and intuition, inclusion, forgiveness, the importance of telling stories, listening to stories, making stories, and learning from stories. It is about a Gilbranian take on joy and sorrow. about dogs, peanut butter, war, preaching, music, being alone and being not alone. It is about fear. It is about hope. It is about us. Here are some delectable quotes that I just couldn't ignore:
"Winn-Dixie? I said. "Heh-heh-heh." I heard: "This dog sure likes to eat." I went around a really big tree all covered in moss, and there was Winn-Dixie. He was eating something right out of the witch's hand. She looked up at me. "This dog sure likes peanut butter," she said. "You can always trust a dog that likes peanut butter." (page 63)
******excuse me again. Half-time will be continued in the crate with frozen carrots and a kong for snack. I am tired of having my feet licked. What is it with males and feet??)
******Ok. I'm back.
"I sat down careful and Gloria Dump made me a peanut butter sandwich on white bread. Then she made one for herself and put her false teeth in, to eat it; when she was done, she said to me, "You know, my eyes ain't too good at all. I can't see nothing but the general shape of things, so I got to rely on my heart. Why don't you go on and tell me everything about yourself, so I can see you with my heart." (page 66)
"Why don't you play with them boys?" Gloria asked me. "Because they're ignorant," I told her. "They still think you're a witch. It doesn't matter how many times I tell them you're not." "I think they are just trying to make friends with you in a roundabout way," Gloria said. "I don't want to be their friend," I said. "It might be fun having them two boys for friends." "I'd rather talk with you," I said. "They're stupid. And mean. And they're boys." Gloria would shake her head and sigh, and then she would ask me what was going on in the world and did I have any stories to tell her. And I always did." (page 91)
"Miss Franny looked around the library and then she whispered, "Men and boys always want to fight. They are always looking for a reason to go to war. It is the saddest thing. They have this abiding notion that war is fun. And no history lesson will convince them differently." (page 105)
So, this book is talking BIG to me as a 4, a "witch", as a blind-as-a-bat woman who will never get lasik, as a storyteller, as a professional listener, and as lover of peanut butter on white bread.
Things I love about this book:
1. Dog
2. Dog who like peanut butter
3. Witch (ask Mark-- love him for what he once called me in 1998)
4. Witches who like peanut butter on white bread
5. Witches who can't see
6. Witches who can see with their hearts
7. Witches who listen
8. Witches who tell stories
9. Witches who aren't really "witches"..or are they?
10. The rest of the book to read when I get back to my bath!
Ooowheee! Succulence and a little piece of Heaven!
Moving on...another book. This one called Daughters of a Coral Dawn. Genre: TDKSF (Trashy Dike Novel/Science Fiction) First time I have ever read anything quite like this. Usually, I can't tolerate science fiction. Can't relate. Don't want to. Thought the same would probably be true about this book, too...was somewhat annoyed that bookgroup wouldn't wait to read this when I was down in Mississippi this summer and would miss the gathering anyway (no way I am bringing a book like this down into Baptist land)..and then laughed at myself because I neglected to ask that they wait so it must mean I secretly wanted to taste this kind of writing...sort of like the first time you read a really trashy romance novel or when you google a naughty word so you can see porn for the first time on the internet. Same kind of tingly-wingly kind of feeling--all part of chewing on this juicy life in the succulent NOW. Anyway, so I read it over this week....a good week to read this with everything else going on in the world. Parts were annoying. The author is decidedly condescending toward males (so I vascillated between annoyance and resonance). I have begun a list or writers of whom I have heard but have never read their works outright for myself in their entirety-Sappho, Radclyffe, Woolf, Stein, Toklas. There must be strength and chewy thoughts in their works because I keep coming across allusions and bits and peices of writing and poetry that make an impact in the manner of bugs on your windshield on a roadtrip on my psyche. Gonna check these out. Clean 'em off or eat 'em and enjoy the energy. Obviously, I know nothing about lesbian culture--if there is any such thing as lesbian culture. Here are a few things I learned from reading this book:
1. Lesbians are people, too.
2. Love comes in all forms.
3. Lesbians live and love like everybody else.
4. Lesbians may be genetically smarter than the rest of us or they just may be farther along the evolutionary path.
I guess I'll have to check these out with bookgroup. And I don't need to read anymore of this kind of literature. And I don't need to google naughty words anymore just for the fun of it. It was fun while it lasted.
Now comes the Deep Water Dreamer part.
Oh, Grandpa. Were you just delighted with how things turned out yesterday? The family reconnections, the rolling waves from the ferry boats, the sharing of Dramamine and 12 year old scotch whiskey, the piper, the priest, the dancers, the prayers and poems, the tomatoes in the water with the flowers and rosemary, the storytelling, the laughter when your ashes splatted on the first deck instead of in the water and they had to hose you off into the water?!? The noticing that there is a definite split between the grand progeny of your progeny and how the grand progeny from your eldest son has decided that this will not do and we are now planning how to craft opportunities for time together and the rebuilding of this family of origin with our other cousins so we know each other by name, by smile, and by heart? Poppy, you must be smiling at "The Parting Glass" and "The Water is Wide" and Father Tony singing "Safe Harbor" while some us sipped FishTale Ale in coffee cup disguise. And the party after...and the party after that that went on until the wee hours. It was grand. You were grand. You ARE grand. Thank you for YOU. I'll have some stories to curl your ear-hairs when next I see you (although in heaven, I wonder if God will give you back your head-hairs?..I never remember seeing any when you were walking down here with us. I just remember you spitting out your false teeth at us alot and your laugh--which matched your eyes. And your postcards from around the world which were just infuriating to a young girl because you wrote just enough to get me hooked and then I had to go look up the names of mountains and deltas and countries, the cultures, the food, the names of strange clothes and musical intruments, the wood, the rivers, and the oceans....I believe now that you did that on purpose to get me to learn! And guess what, I do it now for my students...you were not perfect. You had flaws that hurt many of us. We have them, too, in our own ways. We respect anyway. We remember anyway. We love anyway. Fully! Poppy, hug that Grandma Grace for me until I can hug you both myself! And if I get false teeth, I plan to learn how to spit them out at kids just like you!
Little pieces of heaven...almost too many. There were more, in just that one day. Sisters, in conference, being able to share things that I hadn't told anyone and to learn that I am not such a freak anyhow...and if I am, so what! Pop-eye (Poppy style-AHHHHAHHA) style'"I YAM WHAT I YAM"! I am going to continue this "dating" thing a bit more but I loved what younger fairy-godsister shared--"How about the magic and power of "pssst. come here to me" instead of bulldozer-land "I-want-it. I-will-have-it.Get-out-of-my-way-while-go-for-and-get-this"....I like that. I have never conceived of that. I am going to try it. I believe that I will be succulently surprised.
More later on Owl, Flicker, and Hummingbird. I want to get back to my now cold bath while Squishy jr. is having half-time in his crate. Then we will go for a long walk at Shilshole and the little pieces of heaven will start all over again...
Sometimes there's a problem with being in heaven...for instance, like this morning.
It is a little piece of heaven when you are in a perfectly hot bath, quiet jazz in the background, a steaming cup of hot coffee in just the right cup, with a perfectly lovely book and for this one span of time, your puppy is contentedly ensconced in making mincemeat of his fabric octopus, and then it happens. The wheels in your sleepy Sunday brain get greased and the thoughts start turning into creative collages that demand expression. And right then, the unthinkable happens, which can be described in relation to this phenomenon. You are watching a really great movie and you have had two diet Pepsis with lime at room temperature with no ice and you get the urge. And you try to wait because the movie is so good. And you have to go. And you don't want to stop the movie. But you have to. And finally you get to the point where you have to take care of business because there is no other choice.... I'm dripping as I write this. You get the picture. The bath will have to wait...It's my book anyway, this blog, and I sense that this will be chapter 7. Excuse me a moment while I get my dog out from under my feet. He is playing soccer with himself and apparently, the area under my computer desk is one of the goals. The other one is the front door rug area where, when he "scores", instead of leaping in the air, he grabs one end of the rug, shakes it, growls triumphantly and throws it in the air, until the ref (me) growls at him for grabbing the rug and shows him out to get back in the game. Oh geez, looks like it's half-time, because he has the rug over on his "rug" and is eating it like a snack...I'll be right back. Ok, where were we? Oh, yes, interrupted heaven...
This morning, I am reading Because of Winn-Dixie. (I wish I knew how to use font applications on this blog, because it annoys me when I can't underline things like titles or apply proper accents when I choose to write en francais-sigh). THis book should be required reading for everyone I know, teach, and will teach. It is a superb story about learning about yourself, making friends, trust and intuition, inclusion, forgiveness, the importance of telling stories, listening to stories, making stories, and learning from stories. It is about a Gilbranian take on joy and sorrow. about dogs, peanut butter, war, preaching, music, being alone and being not alone. It is about fear. It is about hope. It is about us. Here are some delectable quotes that I just couldn't ignore:
"Winn-Dixie? I said. "Heh-heh-heh." I heard: "This dog sure likes to eat." I went around a really big tree all covered in moss, and there was Winn-Dixie. He was eating something right out of the witch's hand. She looked up at me. "This dog sure likes peanut butter," she said. "You can always trust a dog that likes peanut butter." (page 63)
******excuse me again. Half-time will be continued in the crate with frozen carrots and a kong for snack. I am tired of having my feet licked. What is it with males and feet??)
******Ok. I'm back.
"I sat down careful and Gloria Dump made me a peanut butter sandwich on white bread. Then she made one for herself and put her false teeth in, to eat it; when she was done, she said to me, "You know, my eyes ain't too good at all. I can't see nothing but the general shape of things, so I got to rely on my heart. Why don't you go on and tell me everything about yourself, so I can see you with my heart." (page 66)
"Why don't you play with them boys?" Gloria asked me. "Because they're ignorant," I told her. "They still think you're a witch. It doesn't matter how many times I tell them you're not." "I think they are just trying to make friends with you in a roundabout way," Gloria said. "I don't want to be their friend," I said. "It might be fun having them two boys for friends." "I'd rather talk with you," I said. "They're stupid. And mean. And they're boys." Gloria would shake her head and sigh, and then she would ask me what was going on in the world and did I have any stories to tell her. And I always did." (page 91)
"Miss Franny looked around the library and then she whispered, "Men and boys always want to fight. They are always looking for a reason to go to war. It is the saddest thing. They have this abiding notion that war is fun. And no history lesson will convince them differently." (page 105)
So, this book is talking BIG to me as a 4, a "witch", as a blind-as-a-bat woman who will never get lasik, as a storyteller, as a professional listener, and as lover of peanut butter on white bread.
Things I love about this book:
1. Dog
2. Dog who like peanut butter
3. Witch (ask Mark-- love him for what he once called me in 1998)
4. Witches who like peanut butter on white bread
5. Witches who can't see
6. Witches who can see with their hearts
7. Witches who listen
8. Witches who tell stories
9. Witches who aren't really "witches"..or are they?
10. The rest of the book to read when I get back to my bath!
Ooowheee! Succulence and a little piece of Heaven!
Moving on...another book. This one called Daughters of a Coral Dawn. Genre: TDKSF (Trashy Dike Novel/Science Fiction) First time I have ever read anything quite like this. Usually, I can't tolerate science fiction. Can't relate. Don't want to. Thought the same would probably be true about this book, too...was somewhat annoyed that bookgroup wouldn't wait to read this when I was down in Mississippi this summer and would miss the gathering anyway (no way I am bringing a book like this down into Baptist land)..and then laughed at myself because I neglected to ask that they wait so it must mean I secretly wanted to taste this kind of writing...sort of like the first time you read a really trashy romance novel or when you google a naughty word so you can see porn for the first time on the internet. Same kind of tingly-wingly kind of feeling--all part of chewing on this juicy life in the succulent NOW. Anyway, so I read it over this week....a good week to read this with everything else going on in the world. Parts were annoying. The author is decidedly condescending toward males (so I vascillated between annoyance and resonance). I have begun a list or writers of whom I have heard but have never read their works outright for myself in their entirety-Sappho, Radclyffe, Woolf, Stein, Toklas. There must be strength and chewy thoughts in their works because I keep coming across allusions and bits and peices of writing and poetry that make an impact in the manner of bugs on your windshield on a roadtrip on my psyche. Gonna check these out. Clean 'em off or eat 'em and enjoy the energy. Obviously, I know nothing about lesbian culture--if there is any such thing as lesbian culture. Here are a few things I learned from reading this book:
1. Lesbians are people, too.
2. Love comes in all forms.
3. Lesbians live and love like everybody else.
4. Lesbians may be genetically smarter than the rest of us or they just may be farther along the evolutionary path.
I guess I'll have to check these out with bookgroup. And I don't need to read anymore of this kind of literature. And I don't need to google naughty words anymore just for the fun of it. It was fun while it lasted.
Now comes the Deep Water Dreamer part.
Oh, Grandpa. Were you just delighted with how things turned out yesterday? The family reconnections, the rolling waves from the ferry boats, the sharing of Dramamine and 12 year old scotch whiskey, the piper, the priest, the dancers, the prayers and poems, the tomatoes in the water with the flowers and rosemary, the storytelling, the laughter when your ashes splatted on the first deck instead of in the water and they had to hose you off into the water?!? The noticing that there is a definite split between the grand progeny of your progeny and how the grand progeny from your eldest son has decided that this will not do and we are now planning how to craft opportunities for time together and the rebuilding of this family of origin with our other cousins so we know each other by name, by smile, and by heart? Poppy, you must be smiling at "The Parting Glass" and "The Water is Wide" and Father Tony singing "Safe Harbor" while some us sipped FishTale Ale in coffee cup disguise. And the party after...and the party after that that went on until the wee hours. It was grand. You were grand. You ARE grand. Thank you for YOU. I'll have some stories to curl your ear-hairs when next I see you (although in heaven, I wonder if God will give you back your head-hairs?..I never remember seeing any when you were walking down here with us. I just remember you spitting out your false teeth at us alot and your laugh--which matched your eyes. And your postcards from around the world which were just infuriating to a young girl because you wrote just enough to get me hooked and then I had to go look up the names of mountains and deltas and countries, the cultures, the food, the names of strange clothes and musical intruments, the wood, the rivers, and the oceans....I believe now that you did that on purpose to get me to learn! And guess what, I do it now for my students...you were not perfect. You had flaws that hurt many of us. We have them, too, in our own ways. We respect anyway. We remember anyway. We love anyway. Fully! Poppy, hug that Grandma Grace for me until I can hug you both myself! And if I get false teeth, I plan to learn how to spit them out at kids just like you!
Little pieces of heaven...almost too many. There were more, in just that one day. Sisters, in conference, being able to share things that I hadn't told anyone and to learn that I am not such a freak anyhow...and if I am, so what! Pop-eye (Poppy style-AHHHHAHHA) style'"I YAM WHAT I YAM"! I am going to continue this "dating" thing a bit more but I loved what younger fairy-godsister shared--"How about the magic and power of "pssst. come here to me" instead of bulldozer-land "I-want-it. I-will-have-it.Get-out-of-my-way-while-go-for-and-get-this"....I like that. I have never conceived of that. I am going to try it. I believe that I will be succulently surprised.
More later on Owl, Flicker, and Hummingbird. I want to get back to my now cold bath while Squishy jr. is having half-time in his crate. Then we will go for a long walk at Shilshole and the little pieces of heaven will start all over again...
posted by MihErn @ 10:23 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home